


spinning on that dizzy edge, kissed her face

by gilligankane



Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [46]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, F/F, Mixtape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: Waverly smiles widely. “Happy Anniversary.” She reads the tape title slowly, her smile turning into confusion. “Anniversary?”Nicole nods, her head bobbing. “It’s not down to the day, but it’s close enough.”Waverly looks back down at the tape. “But… we got married in August.”
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/819408
Comments: 49
Kudos: 363





	spinning on that dizzy edge, kissed her face

**Author's Note:**

> A whole three years have gone by since Side A of 'it's like i wrote every note with my own fingers' dropped. What a wild ride. You all have loved this 'verse so much, and I love you so much for it. Thank you, always, for taking this ride with us. 
> 
> This is set in 2018.

**"Just Like Heaven" The Cure, 1987  
** _ Spinning on that dizzy edge. Kissed her face, and kissed her head. Dreamed of all the different ways, I had to make her glow. “Why are you so far away?” she said. “Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you? That I'm in love with you?” _

Nicole checks her pocket nervously, tapping two fingers against the hard plastic case hiding behind a layer of denim. She smooths a hand down the front of her shirt. She thinks that maybe she needs to change. Maybe the stark-white, freshly-ironed shirt is too much. The sleeves are rolled, crisp lines she checked three times in the mirror before she left home. Her department-issued jacket is pulled up over her wrists once. She checks her Casio, the new one Waverly got her as a surprise one day.  _ Just because _ , Waverly had said to her as she tried on the W736H-1AV with a vibration alarm.

It goes off now, and Nicole looks at the front doors of the school, willing them to open.

A few seconds later, they blow apart, students streaming out onto the front walk and over the lawn. Some of them pull up short at the sight of her, eyeing her Bronco as they pass. She waves a hand at Ms. Daisy as she comes down the steps and heads towards the parking lot. Waverly had been excited when she moved from the middle school to the high school years ago.

“Hey, Sheriff,” someone calls.

Nicole looks up and smiles at Rand. She reaches out and taps the brim of his hat down over his eyes. “Hey, bud.” She remembers when he was born, holding him in her shaking hands as Chrissy sank back against the pillows in the hospital room, spent. When Perry burst into the room minutes later, she held him out for him to take his son.

He leans up against the side of her Bronco, almost as tall as the top of the door. “Waiting for Aunt Waverly?”

Nicole checks her watch again. “Her car is in the shop.”

Rand nods. “I know. Uncle Doc is letting me work on it. With supervision, obviously,” he adds quickly.

“If Doc is letting you work on the car, he thinks you’re ready.” Nicole shrugs a shoulder into him. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Rand pulls his backpack up higher on one shoulder. “Tell that to my mom. She’s worried I’m going to lose a hand, or something.”

Nicole snorts softly. “I mean, you’ve got a track record, kid.” She starts to count on her fingers. “Broken wrist from jumping out of a tree. Broken ankle when you got stuck in that tire swing your mother told you that you absolutely should not be on. Three concussions. Then there’re the stitches from-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts. “I get it.”

She smiles at him. “I know you do.”

Someone calls Rand’s name from the small side parking lot, and he looks up, waving a hand to someone Nicole doesn’t see. He turns to her, an apology on his face.

“Go, go,” she insists. “I’ll see you this weekend.” 

He nods and pushes off her Bronco, sidestepping someone who tries to crash into him, pushing at the kid with a smile on his face. Nicole watches him go. They’re all getting so old, her nieces and nephews. Hayley is out of college, working in Fort McMurray. Alice is in her junior year in Edmonton, but she’s coming home every other weekend. Rand is a senior at Purgatory High. She scans the parking lot, looking for Hank. He’s probably inside the gym, warming up with the basketball team.

She wonders when she got so old. 

The door opens again and Nicole straightens up as Waverly comes down the steps, looking for Nicole. She smiles when their eyes meet. Nicole meets her on the sidewalk, taking the books she’s holding out of her hands, the air leaving her lungs a little as she feels their weight in her arms.

“Hey, you,” Waverly says, pushing up on her toes to kiss Nicole’s cheek.

Nicole smiles. “Hey, yourself.” She shifts the books into one arm as she pulls the back door open, dumping them into the seat. She holds out her hand for Waverly’s bag, putting it in before she pushes the door closed. 

Waverly pulls her winter coat a little tighter around her body, looking Nicole up and down. “How are you wearing only that?”

Nicole looks down at her jacket, open. “It’s not that cold.”

“It’s  _ freezing _ .”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “It barely dipped below 6℃ today.”

“It will,” Waverly insists. “Just wait. It’s going to, and you’re going to be sorry.”

“I’ll just, you know. Zip it up.” Nicole moves around the Bronco, pulling Waverly’s door open for her. She waits until Waverly is in the passenger seat before she closes it. The cassette case in her pocket pinches her hip, and she remembers it all of a sudden, the nerves building back up in her stomach. She takes a second at the back of her car, her hand against the window as she takes a deep breath.

_ It’s just a cassette _ , she tells herself. 

But it’s never  _ just _ a cassette. 

It’s always something more. Something she can’t ever put into words. Not as well as Van Halen or Foreigner or Journey can. Her whole life, music has been the only way she can really say what she’s thinking. What she’s feeling. Music has gotten her through some of the best and worst times of her life. It brought her family and love. It’s never  _ just _ something. 

She slips into the driver’s seat, the cassette digging into her thigh.

“You okay?” Waverly asks, opening the glove compartment. She pulls out a handful of tapes, spreading them out on her lap as she looks them over.

“Aces,” Nicole says as she turns the car on. She lets it idle as she ejects the Bad Company tape she has in the deck. She runs her hand over the knobs, feeling the grooves against the tips of her fingers. She had Doc take out the fancy CD player with the Bluetooth hookup.  _ Make it… mine _ , she had said to him. He found an old Bronco at a lot in Edmonton and pulled the tape deck out of that.

Waverly hands her a Madonna tape she’s listened to a hundred times. Nicole makes a face.  _ Like a Prayer _ is not her favorite of the Madonna albums. Not that she’d admit to liking Madonna. Wynonna would laugh herself to death. She pops it in anyway, and lets Waverly turn it up as the title track starts. 

“ _ Life is a mystery _ ,” Madonna sings.

“So did Doc say how long the Jeep would be in for?”

Nicole shakes her head. “Rand said he’s starting it today. I’ll ask Doc when I see him tonight.”

Waverly hums. “Right. It’s your night with Wynonna.” She sighs softly. “Please don’t do anything stupid this time.”

“I think it should go on record that  _ I _ don’t do stupid things. Wynonna does.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “And  _ you _ always do what she does.”

“That’s not true,” Nicole points out. “I didn’t kiss boys. I didn’t ride a motorcycle. I didn’t join a biker gang and ride across Canada. I didn’t-”

“Okay, okay.” Waverly turns Madonna down a little, and Nicole sends up a silent prayer. “I get it. But where stupid leads, dummy follows.”

“That’s your wife you’re talking about.” Nicole pulls off the curb, easing onto the road behind a truck with a Purgatory Blue Devils sticker on the back of it, the handle of a hockey stick poking up out of bed. She should stop by the next game, just to get out of the station. She misses patrols. In quiet moments when no one is around, she even misses Ms. Dray and her raccoon problem.

Waverly pats her arm gently. “And I love her. Dummy and all.”

Nicole’s heart flutters just a little bit. Something still catches in her throat each time Waverly says she loves her. It makes her think of the first time, standing on the front lawn of Gus’s house with a boombox at her feet as “Just Like Heaven” plays on. Nicole hadn’t believed it then. Waverly had to say it again. And if she’s honest with herself, she still doesn’t believe it now. 

She got the girl. 

All this time later, she still has the girl. 

“So, home?” she manages to ask.

Waverly turns Madonna back up. “Yeah, home,” she sighs. “I need to get out of these shoes and onto the couch. I hope Mac has been warming it up for me. You’re going back to the station?”

Nicole nods. “I want to talk to Kate about the break-ins at the Pines.”

“That place is a dump,” Waverly mutters.

“That place is still a part of Purgatory.” Nicole looks at Waverly out of the corner of her eye. “And unless it moves somewhere else like Monument, it’s mine to take care of.”

Waverly sighs, but she smiles. “I know, Sheriff. It’s your town.”

“It’s my town,” Nicole agrees.

Waverly moves suddenly, pushing out of her seat to kiss Nicole on the cheek. She settles back into her seat, holding her hands over the vents blowing out warm air. Nicole holds still, the ghost of Waverly’s mouth still damp against her cheek. She takes a slow breath in until the feeling fades away before she turns to look at Waverly. Waverly smiles.

The cassette digs into her thigh, sharp and warm.

-

Wynonna lets her head fall off the edge of the couch, hair hanging down to the floor. Her face is starting to get red at the temple, her veins starting to pop the longer she hangs upside down.

“You’re going to have a headache,” Nicole points out. She takes a long sip of her beer, wincing at the last, warm sip. “Don’t complain when you do.”

“I don’t ever complain.” Wynonna lasts another ten seconds before she groans and sits up, closing her eyes against the wave of dizziness that Nicole knows she’s feeling. She holds out a hand, blindly searching for her beer bottle. Nicole picks it up and holds it just out of reach, grinning. Wynonna opens one eye and squints at her as she frowns. “Hey, give it.”

Nicole shakes her head. “You don’t need it. I’m sure the room is already spinning.”

Wynonna points a finger in her direction, but it swings to the left. “Hey, shelf the cop at the door.” She holds her hand up when Nicole opens her mouth. “I know, I know. You  _ can’t _ , can you?” She sighs. “How’d I get such a noob for a best friend.”

“You picked me.”

“I really didn’t.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Okay, Wynonna.” She still keeps the beer out of Wynonna’s reach. “But seriously. Doc said you have to be upright this time.”

“John Henry Holliday is not my keeper.” Wynonna frowns. “I keep him, not the other way around.” She gestures to Nicole. “Just give it here, Haught, and no one gets hurt.”

Nicole lets the bottle drop at her side, landing with a solid  _ thud _ on the end stand Doc put up above the Patch in storage after Wynonna, Doc, and Alice moved a few streets over from Nicole. The old apartment is littered with odds and ends now - Alice’s crib, the one she put together backward; a few chairs from downstairs; the first couch Nicole and Waverly bought that they left in the apartment for Wynonna. 

Wynonna sags into the arm of that couch now, pushing her hair off her shoulder. “Do you think we’re losers for hiding out up here instead of, you know. Going to Pussy Willows or something?”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “I wouldn’t go to Pussy Willows even if you told me you were dancing there.”

“I could make good money there, thank you very much.” Wynonna sighs. “I just mean, here we are. Going on 48, hanging out alone. We’re supposed to be in the prime of our lives, aren’t we?” She looks past Nicole, eyes shining.

“No,” Nicole says quickly. “You’re not getting your bike out.”

Wynonna’s mouth drops open. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You were,” Nicole interrupts. “I could see it. You were going to say that you can take your bike out and do some kind of half-thought out ride across the country where you’ll disappear for a few months and we’ll only hear from you after you wreck your  _ fourth _ bike.”

“Two of those weren’t my fault.”

“Tell that to your bike,” Nicole mumbles. She shakes her head. “First of all, I’m too old to be getting those phone calls anymore. I was too old to be getting them the first time around.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “That’s right. I forgot. You’re 47 going on 94.”

Nicole ignores her. “Second of all, you promised Alice you’d wait to do anything stupid until she graduates. And that? Qualifies as stupid.”

Wynonna sighs like she always does when Nicole brings up Alice. She slumps back into the couch and pulls her legs up to her chest, her chin on her knees. “I miss her.”

Nicole softens. “I know you do. I miss her, too.”

“It’s like…” Wynonna groans. “It’s like I’ve never missed something so much in my entire life. There’s just this big, like, gaping hole in my chest where she should be.” She throws her arms up above her head. “Now who’s the noob?”

“You’re a mom,” Nicole says softly. “You’re allowed to miss her that much.”

“She’s the coolest thing I’ve ever done. And did you know I was in a motorcycle gang?” Wynonna laughs and Nicole ignores how watery it sounds. “I was so scared to be a mom, and now… Now I’m scared that someday, I won’t be one anymore.”

Nicole puts her own beer down and shifts, getting out of the old armchair that smells like mothballs and dropping down on the couch next to Wynonna. She slides down until their shoulders touch. She sits there quietly, singing a few verses of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” before Wynonna sighs and drops her head to Nicole’s shoulder.

“If you tell John Henry about this, I’ll kill you,” she says quietly. “I told him only one of us could be a loser about this, and he was it.”

Nicole turns and rests her chin on Wynonna’s forehead. “I’ve never told a single one of your secrets, have I?” She purses her lips. “And anyway, I’m unkillable. Remember?”

Wynonna huffs and sits up. “Speaking of stupid things we’ve done, you getting shot is at the top of that list.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve said this before.”

“I’ll be saying it at your funeral. Which better not be for the next 50 years.” Wynonna makes a face. “One day we’re going to get, like,  _ really _ old, you know?”

“That’s kind of what happens.” Nicole turns until the point of her chin rests on Wynonna’s shoulder. “Earp?”

Wynonna lowers her voice. “Haught.”

Nicole inhales slowly, letting it fill her lungs. “You’re my best friend.”

Wynonna looks at her out of the corner of her eye. “No take-backs.” 

“No take-backs,” Nicole promises.

Wynonna’s hand drops to her leg, the heel of her palm landing over her pocket. She pauses before she pats Nicole’s leg down. “Listen, unless you’ve been hiding something really important from me for the last forty years… Is that a cassette tape in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Nicole snorts and pushes Wynonna’s hand away, sitting up so she’s not slouching. She wrestles the tape out of her pocket and balances it on her knee. “It’s a cassette tape, you idiot.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Wynonna mutters. She pokes at it. “Please don’t tell me that you made-”

“I made Waverly a mixtape,” Nicole interrupts. She bats Wynonna’s hand away. “For our anniversary.”

Wynonna’s mouth pinches. “Your anniversary? It’s December, Nicole. I vaguely remember it being sometime in August because I was, you know.” She rubs a hand over her stomach. “Knocked up.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Yes, I was there, remember? I was the one saying the vows.”

Wynonna sighs wistfully. “I looked banging at that wedding.” She glances at Nicole quickly. “You were okay. One of your sleeves was a little crooked.”

Nicole swings a hand back, catching Wynonna in the stomach. “It was not. I double-checked.”

“Triple-checked,” Wynonna mutters, holding her arm out to block Nicole’s next swat. She reaches around Nicole’s hand and pokes the cassette again, nearly knocking it to the floor. Nicole scowls at her and holds it tightly in her hand. “So, what’s it for, then? Is it, like, the first time you guys boned or something?”

Nicole is quiet for a moment, “Hysteria” playing in her head. 

“ _ Ew _ ,” Wynonna breathes. “It is for the first time you guys boned?”

Nicole rolls her eyes and huffs. “No. This is…” She bites on her lip, her neck flushing. She runs the nail of her pointer finger over the soft skin around her thumb and lets it fall away just as quickly. “ _ Ourfirstkiss _ ,” she says in one breath. 

Wynonna pauses. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Nicole sighs. “I said, our first kiss.”

Wynonna barks out a laugh. “See, that’s what I thought you said. But only a total  _ noob _ would make a mixtape for a  _ first kiss _ .” She pauses again. “But, like, that makes sense for you.”

Nicole pushes off the couch and shoves the tape back into her pocket. “You know, I never said thank you for that, by the way.”

Wynonna frowns. “For what?”

“Our first kiss.” She picks up Wynonna’s nearly-empty bottle and finishes the rest of it. It’s bitter in her mouth. “It was at that party Stephanie Jones threw right before Christmas. Spin the Bottle. You were supposed to meet me and Waverly there, but you blew us off for Doc. Again.”

Wynonna shrugs a shoulder. “No regrets.”

Nicole smiles. “Well, if you had come with us, you definitely would have stopped us from going into that closet together.” She stops for a second, eyes narrowed. “Though, you probably also would have stopped me from having to kiss Kyle York.”

Wynonna sits up suddenly. “You kissed  _ Kyle York _ ?” She pushes off the couch, taking a step forward. Nicole takes a step back. “Kyle  _ York _ ? Like, Pete York’s little brother? The  _ Animal Control _ guy?”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Do you know another Kyle York?”

“Well, now I wish I did.” Wynonna makes a face. “You spun Kyle York in Spin the Bottle?”

“He spun me,” Nicole corrects. “And I think he cheated.”

Wynonna claps her hand over her mouth. “Your first boy kiss and it was Kyle forking York.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “I  _ missed _ this?”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “You also missed Pete and Champ kiss.”

Wynonna’s mouth falls open. “I’m going to kill John Henry for keeping me from this party. I mean, he was  _ very  _ persuasive with his hat and his bike and his hands and-”

Nicole shakes her head. “No. Nope. Don’t go there.”

Wynonna sinks back down onto the couch, her chin in her hands. “You kissed Kyle York. How did I not know this?”

Nicole picks up the top of a yellowing box, looking into it. Old Patch records. She can make out Curtis’s writing, his looping letters and neat numbers. “I kind of had other things going on.”

“Yeah, like macking on my sister.” Wynonna makes a face. “God, I’m disgusted.”

Nicole drops the box top. “Hey.”

Wynonna waves a hand at her. “Not you and my sister, you weirdo. You and…  _ Kyle _ .”

Nicole feels the back of her neck flush. “Can you stop saying his name like that.”

Wynonna gags again. “ _ Kyle _ .”

“Yes, thank you. I’m really enjoying reliving this experience.” Nicole rolls her eyes. He had kissed her hard, trying to put his tongue in her mouth. She almost punched him. She wishes she had.

“Well,  _ you _ brought it up.” Wynonna points at her. “You and your big sentimental… ness.” She frowns. “That didn’t sound right.”

“Sentimentality?” Nicole offers.

Wynonna waves a hand at her. “Whatever you say. So, you spun Little Miss Perfect.”

“I spun _ Waverly _ .” She rubs at the back of her neck. “For Seven Minutes in Heaven.” She thinks about that closet and the smell of mothballs, hangers cutting into her back as she stared at Waverly across the dim space. She can feel the heat of Waverly’s hands on her neck, the fingerless gloves she wore digging into her skin, “Just Like Heaven” pumping around them.

Wynonna whistles and brings her back. “Well, damn, Haught. Really got the most for your money, huh?”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’m done telling you about this.”

“Oh, come on. Like I don’t walk in on you guys all the time.”

“You can start knocking like a normal person,” Nicole points out.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Wynonna opens her mouth to add something, but there’s a muffled ringing sound from somewhere underneath her. Nicole can make out the sound of Guns N’ Roses. Wynonna’s eyes light up as Alice’s ringtone goes on. She scrambles to unearth it, fumbling as she swipes her finger across the screen. Nicole can see Alice’s picture before the screen cuts to the call. She remembers taking that picture on Alice’s tenth birthday, cake smeared over her face and in her hair, grinning ear to ear.

“Hey, baby girl. Everything okay?”

Nicole lets Wynonna turn away and talk quietly to Alice. She wanders through the storage instead, pausing every so often to take the lids off unmarked boxes. There’re old jukebox records up here, still in the sleeves that Curtis put them back into when he changed them out of the machine. She opens another box full of old kitchen pads, fraying at the corners. When they were younger and Curtis was here, he would let them draw pictures in the pads, then hang them up behind the counter. She thumbs through a small pile of them, smiling.

The cassette hums quietly in her pocket and she thinks of him, her heart aching for a moment.

“She got that summer internship she wanted,” Wynonna says quietly. She slides her phone back into her pocket. She sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. “So she’ll stay in Edmonton for most of July.”

Nicole smiles a little. “She really wanted that.”

Wynonna sighs again. “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

Nicole carefully puts the top back on the box she opened and crosses the room until she’s nearly touching Wynonna. “But it’s only July. She’ll have the rest of the summer to move back home and sleep until noon and eat all of the chips you have in the house.” She pauses, tipping her head to one side. “Wait. That was you the summer you moved in with us.” She dodges the weak slap that comes her way. “She’s coming home, Wynonna.”

“She’s me,” Wynonna says. “And I couldn’t wait to get out of this place.”

“But you came home. Every time, you came home.” Nicole slings her arm across Wynonna’s shoulders. “You’ll see. I’m right.”

“You always say that,” Wynonna mutters, leaning into Nicole’s side.

“I’m always right.” Nicole squeezes Wynonna’s shoulder gently. “Now, come on. I should get home before Waverly thinks you’ve corrupted me or something.”

“Me?” Wynonna gasps and puts a hand to her chest. “I would  _ never _ .”

Nicole rolls her eyes and pushes Wynonna towards the door, scooping up their empties as she follows her. “Where stupid leads, dummy follows.”

“That’s your best friend you’re talking about,” Wynonna throws over her shoulder. Nicole locks the door behind them as she goes down the stairs and out to the back of the Patch. “But I’m glad you finally realized how much of a dummy you are."

Nicole pats her pocket as she gets in her Bronco, feeling the cassette. Wynonna rambles on about something as she gets in the passenger seat, fishing the Bad Company cassette out of the glove box and popping it into the deck a little too hard. Nicole winces as the tape clicks then turns on.

“ _ Well, I take whatever I want, and baby, I want you _ ,” Paul Rodgers sings.

Wynonna puts her feet on the dash and sings along, using her hand as a microphone.

Nicole rolls her eyes and swipes at Wynonna’s legs, but she sings along, too.

-

Waverly pauses in the doorway, her workbag on her shoulder and a pile of books in her arms. “Did I get your schedule wrong?”

Nicole straightens up a little, smoothing down the front of the button-down shirt she picked out and ironed this morning when Waverly left for work. She takes a deep breath and smiles. “No. I took the day off.”

The bag falls from Waverly’s shoulder as she crosses the room. She puts her wrist to Nicole’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

Nicole pulls away, laughing. “No, baby. I just have, like, a hundred days racked up. I decided to use one of them.”

Waverly smiles. “I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m not happy to see you.” She leans back, smoothing down the shoulders of Nicole’s shirt. “And so dressed up. What’s the occasion?” She turns back to the front door, picking up her bag and leaving her shoes on the mat next to Nicole’s boots. She rests her bag on the desk she has along the wall, careful not to knock over the standing desk light. She shrugs off her coat, hanging it on the rack.

Nicole watches her go through her routine of coming home, and she falls in love all over again.

Waverly unwinds her scarf from her neck and looks around, frowning. “Where’s Mac?”

“With Gus.” Nicole looks at the empty couch where Mac’s bear usually sits, the white fur with the blue bow that Alice won him years ago. “She’s meeting some vendors in the city and wanted some company on the ride.”

Waverly smiles softly. “She does have a soft spot for that dog.”

Nicole feels something warm in her stomach. Gus had a soft spot for Styx, too. Everyone did. And it still hurts a little the way that losing Curtis hurts from time to time, but the pain isn’t as sharp. It’s softer now. She remembers all the good things. 

Waverly starts to pick through the small hutch they have in the living room. “Did you want to order-”

Nicole holds up the Chinese food menu.

“Takeout,” Waverly finishes. She gestures for it, but Nicole holds it out of reach. “Nicole.”

“Why do you need to look at it? You order the same thing every time.” Nicole holds the menu against her chest. “I love that about you.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Maybe I want to get something different this time.” She deflates when Nicole just stares at her. “Okay, maybe not.”

Nicole hands her the menu anyway. She watches Waverly thumb through it as she wanders around the living room. She idly picks up things, putting them back in their place. She fluffs a pillow, puts Mac’s bed in the corner, tidies the clickers Nicole was using earlier. She smiles. It’s the little things, she thinks.

Waverly sighs. “I want my usual.”

Nicole grins. “I never would have guessed.”

Waverly swats at her gently as she passes by her and Nicole grabs for her, pulling her in. She slides her hand to the back of Waverly’s neck, tipping her head back.

“Hey,” she says.

Waverly’s hand goes to her collar, thumbing the starched fabric. “Hey. You took today off.”

“I did.” Nicole leans in and kisses Waverly softly. “I thought we could spend the night just… together.”

“I do love spending time with you,” Waverly agrees.

Nicole hums softly and kisses Waverly again, lingering. “I figured. Since we got married and all.”

Waverly laughs brightly. “I was wondering why we did that.” She steps out of Nicole’s hold and moves into the kitchen, turning on the kettle already on the stove. The flame sputters before it lights. Nicole follows Waverly, leaning in the doorway as she moves around the kitchen, getting two coffee cups from the cabinet and two tea bags from a drawer. 

Nicole feels her chest swell with something familiar and warm. It’s so easy sometimes, to take this for granted. Gus and Curtis must have had this. She’s sure her mom never did. But to be able to stand here and watch her  _ wife _ move effortlessly around their kitchen, dancing to some song Nicole can’t hear as she makes them each a cup of tea without even asking, is something she never thought she was going to have. She resolves to do this more, to stand and watch Waverly. 

She wants to catalog every movement, every laugh, every smile. She wants to make a million mixtapes. One with songs that make her think of Waverly’s smile. Another that reminds her of Waverly’s laugh. 

She’d fill her garage with tapes.

The kettle starts to whistle, and Nicole jumps a little, startled by the time that’s gone by. Waverly turns away, smiling, and pours the hot water into the mugs. Nicole watches the steam rise slowly, curling in the air and around Waverly. Waverly adds the tea bags and lets them steep, turning to rest her back against the counter as she looks at Nicole.

“What’s the occasion?” Waverly asks again.

Nicole’s throat closes and she swallows hard. The cassette tape is on the TV stand, a single red bow on it. She spent the afternoon moving it from one spot to another, unsatisfied with where she placed it. Nothing felt good enough. Nothing seemed right.

“Oh,” she says lightly. “I just, you know, wanted to look nice.”

Waverly’s eyes narrow but she’s smiling. “If you’re sure.”

Nicole looks back over her shoulder at the cassette. She forces a shaky smile when she turns to Waverly. “Actually,” she starts. “I wanted to give you something.”

“And you needed to dress up to give it to me?” Waverly smiles. “Don’t answer that. I swear you’d dress up to give me the mail if Wynonna wouldn’t make fun of you when she found out.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t even get the mail.”

Waverly holds out her hand and makes a show of putting her other hand over her eyes. “Well, give it to me.”

Nicole takes a deep breath. She walks on unsteady legs to the TV and picks up the cassette.  _ It’s just a mixtape _ , she tries to tell herself. But Curtis taught her that there’s no such thing as  _ just _ a mixtape. She holds it carefully in her hand, stretched out in front of her as she walks back to the kitchen. There’s an expectation. A hope that she picked the right songs. That she found the right note. There’s a weight to each song. One wrong choice, and the tape loses its punch. It loses its meaning. 

Waverly is still standing there, eyes covered and one hand outstretched. Nicole holds the cassette above her hand, lingering for a minute before she places it carefully down, curling Waverly’s fingers around its sharp edges.

“Huh,” Waverly says, testing its weight. “It feels like…” She uncovers one eye. “A tape. Of course.”

“Of course,” Nicole echoes. She pulls at the collar of her shirt, tipping her head side to side. “Surprise.”

Waverly smiles widely. “Happy Anniversary,” she reads slowly, her smile turning into confusion. “Anniversary?”

Nicole nods, her head bobbing. “It’s not down to the day, but it’s close enough.”

Waverly looks back down at the tape. “But… we got married in August.”

“Right. Yeah. I was there for that.”

“I hope so,” Waverly says lightly.

Nicole ignores her. “But this is…” She hesitates now. “This is our first kiss anniversary.”

“Our first kiss,” Waverly says slowly.

“In Stephanie Jones’s basement,” Nicole says.

“Right. Yeah. I was there for that.” Waverly tips her head to one side. “Huh. That was, uh-”

“Thirty years ago,” Nicole interrupts. “Thirty years ago, like, in three days or something. But Kate is going on vacation with her family, and I need to be at the station so I picked today to do it. I know it’s not our  _ real _ anniversary,” she rushes on. “But I thought it was close enough.”

Waverly’s eyes soften. “Thirty years ago.”

Nicole nods. “Three decades.”

Waverly comes closer, looping her arms around Nicole’s neck, playing with the hair under her fingertips as she puts the tape down carefully on the counter. “We’ve been together for  _ three decades _ .”

Nicole smiles. “Three whole decades of loving you.” She tips her head to the side. “Well, I’ve been in love with you for longer than that, but you know what I mean.”

Waverly is quiet for a minute, just running her hands through Nicole’s hair. “That night was…”

Nicole’s hands rest on Waverly’s hips. In the back of her mind, she can hear “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” by Poison playing. Except this time, she’s the one dancing with Waverly and Champ is married to Stephanie Jones. She thinks about how different that night might have gone if she had told Champ to get bent and danced with Waverly instead.  _ But then _ , she thinks.  _ Maybe we wouldn’t be here _ . 

“I know,” Nicole says softly.

Waverly smiles. “I was so nervous.”

“ _ You _ were nervous?” Nicole scoffs. “I was pretty much crawling out of my skin.”

“Oh, really? The thought of kissing me was so unappealing?”

Nicole pulls Waverly a little closer. “The thought of kissing you was so  _ nervewracking _ . What if I spun you? What if I didn’t? What if you spun Champ, and I had to watch you kiss him? Which did happen, by the way,” Nicole points out. 

“You had already seen me kiss him, like, a hundred times.”

Nicole makes a face. “It didn’t make it easier to watch.”

Waverly’s fingers move, tipping out against the line of Nicole’s jaw. “Watching you kiss Chrissy wasn’t fun for me, either.”

Nicole’s eyes flutter closed as Waverly’s thumb brushes against her bottom lip. “At least watching Champ kiss Pete was entertaining.”

Waverly snorts and her hand falls from Nicole’s face. “It was.”

“But I did spin you,” Nicole continues, her voice soft. “I spun you for Seven Minutes in Heaven, and it was everything I wanted and everything I was afraid of, all at the same time.” She remembers the fluttering fear in her stomach when the bottle slowed to a stop in front of Waverly. Her hands had gone clammy and her neck burned hot under her collar. “I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

“You were so mad at me,” Waverly remembers. “For dancing with Champ. And you were being such a bonehead about it. Telling me that ‘ _ If you wanted to come with Champ, you could have just told me _ ’.”

Nicole feels her cheeks flush. “Well, I mean. Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can.” Waverly laughs at the look on Nicole’s face. “If you had just  _ said _ something, we could have skipped the party and made out on my couch. Instead, our first kiss was in Stephanie Jones’s basement closet. It smelled, Nicole.”

Nicole winces. “It did. Like, like mothballs and… something else.”

Waverly’s nose wrinkles. “Aftershave. It smelled like old aftershave.” She looks down for a moment before she meets Nicole’s eyes. “You called me mental.”

“You  _ were _ mental.” Nicole shakes her head when Waverly opens her mouth to protest. “You were. We both were,” she admits.

“But look at us now,” Waverly says softly.

“Look at us now.”

“Thirty years later.” Waverly presses up onto her toes and kisses Nicole lightly. “Together.”

Thirty years together. Thirty years kissing Waverly. She wishes she could go back to that night, to watching Waverly dance with Champ, and tell her 17-year-old self that she shouldn’t worry. That it’ll work out okay in the end.

But this isn’t the end. This is just a part of the rest of their lives together.

Waverly pulls her down and kisses her, a little harder than before. Nicole’s eyes close. Her hands flex against Waverly’s hips, curling in the fabric of the soft wool pants she put on this morning while Nicole stood in the bedroom doorway, holding her morning cup of coffee. She thinks of the cassette tape on the counter, but then Waverly’s tongue brushes against her lips, and she forgets for just a moment.

She had plans. She was going to put on the mixtape in the stereo and order Chinese and maybe she would let Waverly convince her to play Scrabble. Just a night they could spend together and enjoy each other’s company.

But Waverly’s tongue presses against the seam of her lips, and her plans fall to the wayside. 

Waverly starts to take slow steps backward, Nicole’s toes bumping against hers as she moves forward. Waverly’s hands are back in Nicole’s hair, twisting around the loose strands. Nicole laughs when Waverly backs into the armchair and breaks their kiss, cursing softly under her breath.

She stops for a minute as Waverly frowns back at the chair and just looks at her. 

“What?” Waverly asks when she realizes Nicole is staring.

Nicole shakes her head. “Nothing. I just… I love you.”

Waverly’s eyes soften. “I love you, too.”

Nicole reaches for Waverly, pulling her in again. Her hands go back to Waverly’s hips, sliding under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, her fingers brushing against the soft skin she finds. Waverly kisses her harder, her body pressing into Nicole’s hands. They move carefully through the living room, around the chair, and along the back of the couch. Nicole breaks the kiss to get them through the bedroom door, and Waverly’s lips go to her neck, her teeth grazing against her skin.

She turns and presses Waverly against the doorframe. She slides a leg between Waverly’s, lifting her head and kissing her again.

Waverly arches up into her hands, a soft noise coming from the back of her throat. Nicole grabs onto it and holds it, kissing Waverly again to see if she can get it to happen again. Waverly’s hands start to run across her body, everywhere as she works Nicole’s shirt from her jeans, sliding along the slip of skin between them. 

Nicole feels her breath catch in her chest when Waverly’s hands skim over her hip, thumbing at the bone there. She shudders, pressing into Waverly. Waverly’s mouth goes to her neck, her teeth grazing against her skin, and Nicole pushes through her shiver, sliding her hands down Waverly’s sides, pulling her closer.

“Nicole,” Waverly breathes. She pushes gently at Nicole’s waist, putting space between their bodies. 

Nicole steps back, her chest rising and falling as she works the buttons of her shirt loose. It falls to her feet and she kicks at it gently, moving it out of her way as she reaches for the button of her jeans.

Waverly pushes her hands away. “Let me,” she says, her voice quiet. She slips her fingers behind the button on Nicole’s jeans, pushing it out of place. They go loose on Nicole’s hips and Waverly pushes them down until they slip off her legs, pooling on the floor.

Nicole steps out of them and leaves them behind as she edges Waverly towards the bed. She stops when Waverly’s knees bump against it, holding Waverly up before she falls over. She slides her hand up, moving Waverly’s shirt up her body and over her head. She brushes Waverly’s hair off her face, leaning in to press her lips to Waverly’s neck. Waverly’s hands grab at her back, her fingernails scratching a faint line down along her spine. 

She eases Waverly down to the edge of the bed, kissing her as she kneels in front of her. She slides her hands down Waverly’s leg, curling around her ankle as she pulls her sock off. Waverly leans back on her elbows, a smooth expanse of skin in front of Nicole. Her hands shake as she takes off the other sock, leaving them on the floor. Her hands slide back up, her fingers at the hem of Waverly’s wool pants. Nicole holds her breath as she pops the button.

Nicole remembers this, the first time. Waverly sliding out of her leggings, her legs sliding against Nicole’s.

Now, Waverly stands and lets her pants sink to the floor, standing tall above Nicole.

Nicole leans forward, pressing a kiss just above Waverly’s knee, another on her thigh near her hip. Her hands follow the same path, sliding carelessly up Waverly’s legs until they catch the edge of her underwear, pulling it down just enough for her to press one final kiss there before she stands.

Waverly’s hands tangle in her hair, pulling her into a kiss that takes Nicole’s breath away. She sways, her hands low at Waverly’s back, holding her close.

“Nicole,” Waverly says again.

Nicole’s fingers curl in the fabric of Waverly’s underwear, her hand slipping down until Waverly gasps. Her whole body shudders at Nicole’s touch. She’s been addicted to this for nearly 30 years, to the way that Waverly comes apart under her hand. She eases Waverly back to the bed, stretching out over her as she kicks the sheets away.

Waverly is quiet, breathing out in hot puffs of air against Nicole’s neck, falling and rising as Nicole curls her fingers. She grabs for Nicole’s shoulders, her fingernails cutting into the pale skin. Her whole body lifts off the bed and goes taut, her legs quivering against Nicole’s as she grapples at Nicole’s shoulders. She moans once in Nicole’s ear, long and breathy before it fades into a pleasant, even hum.

Waverly turns her head into Nicole’s shoulder and laughs, soft and breathless. “Nicole.”

Nicole presses lazy kisses against Waverly’s face, her forehead and her cheeks and her eyelids. Waverly curls into her, a hand across her waist as Nicole moves her mouth along Waverly’s jawline to her ear. She nips at Waverly’s earlobe, grinning when Waverly whines and pinches her hip. 

They lay there for a minute, Nicole tracing shapes and letters into Waverly’s skin. She draws out NH and WE and makes a heart around it. 

Waverly rolls, suddenly, trapping Nicole’s hand between their bodies. She hovers over Nicole, her long hair falling down around them like a curtain. Nicole smiles up at her and Waverly leans down, kissing Nicole long and slow. It leaves Nicole breathless, arching up against Waverly. She grabs for Waverly’s arms, trying to ground herself. But Waverly stays featherlight, her kisses turning fleeting as she pulls away when Nicole pushes forward. 

She’s about to whine, to grab Waverly and roll with her, trapping her under her body, but Waverly’s hand moves firmly, over the swell of her breast, down the flat of her stomach, and across the curve of her hip. Nicole gasps but Waverly swallows it with a kiss, just hot and messy enough that Nicole feels foggy. Waverly’s hand goes hot, cutting through it. The air feels like it’s thinning. Waverly is so close, but too far away. 

Nicole feels weightless, floating above their bodies on the bed. She clings tightly to Waverly, holding her close as she feels things start to slip away from her. The sound goes out of the room. The lights glow brighter. Waverly touches her and she thinks,  _ oh, oh, oh _ .

And it feels like she’s seventeen again, pressed into the backseat of her Bonneville as she splits into two, gasping for air. Waverly is there, under her, their bodies burning against each other. She can hear “Hysteria” playing, and she smiles into Waverly’s neck before she reaches back up and kisses her hard, her hand resting low on Waverly’s stomach.

Waverly slows her kisses, lingering a little less each time until her forehead is against Nicole’s. “Hey,” she says quietly.

It’s like there’s something in the air, holding them in this moment. It blocks out the sound of the ticking kitchen clock and the sound of afternoon traffic creeping past their window. The sun coming into the bedroom seems filtered, lighter and softer. Nicole curls her fingers around Waverly’s hand and lifts it, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.

“Hey,” Nicole whispers back.

Waverly sighs, letting her head fall back against the pillows. Nicole studies the line of her neck. “Thirty years,” she says. She laughs softly. “And you made me a mixtape.”

“I’ve made you hundreds of mixtapes, baby,” Nicole admits. “I just never gave you most of them.”

Waverly looks back at her. “Well, I want them.”

“Someday,” Nicole promises. Her eyes close as Waverly’s hand drifts over her skin.

“I want one a day for the rest of our lives.” Waverly pinches her hip gently. “I want to write that into our vows. Can we do that?”

Nicole lifts up on one arm and drops down at Waverly’s side, pulling the sheet up over them. She loses Waverly in it for a moment and Waverly laughs as she bats the sheet away. Nicole grins, pulling it down until she can see Waverly’s eyes.

“We can renew our vows,” Nicole offers. “People do that all the time.”

Waverly pushes her hair off her face, letting it fan around her on the pillow. 

“So, are we going to listen to it?” Waverly asks suddenly.

Nicole opens her eyes. “The tape?”

Waverly hums. “You made it for me to listen to, didn’t you?”

Nicole nods slowly. “I did.” She sits up, the sheet sliding down Waverly’s body to rest at her waist. She runs a finger down the center of Waverly’s chest before she smiles and stands up. Her sweatpants are on the small armchair in the corner of the room where she left them this morning and she pulls them on, an old Ratt t-shirt on top of that.

The tape is on the counter where they left it, sitting with its small red bow on top. Nicole pulls the bow off and leaves it behind, sliding the cassette from the case. She opens the deck of the JVC KD-25 stereo she picked up at a thrift shop in Edmonton. She had found someone to refurbish it and make it functional again. The tape slides in smoothly and she closes it, listening to the soft click. There’s a quiet whir as the tape starts. 

_ “Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick,”  _ Robert Smith sings. 

Nicole walks slowly through the living room towards the bedroom. She can hear the song pounding through the closet doors, echoing in her mind. There’s the faint smell of mothballs when she turns her head. Her hands burn, the memory of Waverly’s hips under them. 

She’s seventeen again, and she’s about to kiss Waverly for the first time.

“ _ The one that makes me scream, she said. The one that makes me laugh, she said. Threw her arms around my neck.”  _

She can see Waverly leaning up against the closet wall, staring at her defiantly. And she can see herself bracing as Waverly pushes off the wall. She can feel her chest swell as their lips meet.

_ “Show me how you do it and I'll promise you, I'll promise that I'll run away with you. I'll run away with you _ .”

Nicole lingers in the doorway, watching Waverly as she closes her eyes and sings along softly. 

_ Thirty years _ , she thinks.  _ And thirty more to go _ . 

  
  
  


**To** : Waverly

_ I just want your extra time and your kiss _

**From** : Nicole

  1. “Just Like Heaven” by The Cure
  2. “Hysteria” by Def Leppard
  3. “You’re the Inspiration” by Chicago
  4. “Love Walks In” by Van Halen
  5. “Crazy for You” by Madonna
  6. “Waiting for a Girl Like You” by Foreigner
  7. “The Search is Over” by Survivor
  8. “When I See You Smile” by Bad English
  9. “Heaven” by Warrant
  10. “Faithfully” by Journey
  11. “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin
  12. “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel
  13. “I Melt With You” by Modern English
  14. “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper




End file.
